


Leave Me Alone

by SarrahFerragamo



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Porn, Avenger Reader (Marvel), Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Dark Humor, Emotional Porn, Emotional Sex, F/M, He cries after he cums, Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reader Needs a Hug, Reader is on Thor's Timeline basically, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, angsty smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24052531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarrahFerragamo/pseuds/SarrahFerragamo
Summary: In which you have the emotional intelligence of a tatertot and the communication skills of a brooding superhero. You and Steve have left each other on sour notes for long periods of time more than once, and the night before the big fight, he wants clarity.Not only for him.But for you as well.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Leave Me Alone

**Author's Note:**

> A WIP technically. This'll be finished soon and by soon I mean whenever I finish lmao
> 
> Italics act as both thoughts and flashbacks.

Less than forty-eight hours ago an ex con-man proposed the phenomenon of quantum physics and time travel. It was convincing enough to sound good in theory, but to carry it out in practice anything and everything could go horribly, horribly wrong. That’s what every mission consisted of, running the risk of failure— so why on Earth did this feel different than the other times? It was always an in-and-out thing. Beat up bad guys, get whatever important information or deadly weapon fashioned for nuclear war, and get the hell out. 

The stones, the bone-breaking fights to keep said stones. _ Thanos _ . 

She shivered. 

Fate couldn’t have hated her that much considering she only walked away with bruises and a single mid-saggital gash. It could be worse. She could be dead. She could be  _ dust _ . 

Now here she was, swaddled in a fleece blanket helping her teammates find the Infinity Stones for the second time. Knowing that when there is smoke, there will be fire. And she did not want to get burned again. 

“Where are we now?”

“You’ll be going with Nebula and Rhodey after the Power Stone.” 

Great. The one thing she was praying not to get, spat in her face and invited itself in.  _ Don’t act disappointed. _

_ You wanted this, you committed to this team, and the people in it. You want your family back and to kill the son of a bitch who took them.  _

It wasn’t the fighting that frightened her. The rage and grief filled motivation to have Thanos’ head on a pike was enough to have a seal of approval to face him again. She’d do absolutely anything for her brother to climb in bed at night to read her Goodnight Moon again. 

_ Mom — just —disappeared— _

Eyebrows creased together like it would stop the painful reminiscing. The plan was set, and tomorrow morning everyone is to disperse to their respected timeline. Limitations were stacked against them, but she’d be damned if she didn’t try to get them back. 

_ But what if— _

“You alright?”

“‘M fine.” she sighs and leaves before any further conversation could be made. Force of habit she glanced at the clock. Its eight thirty-two. Had she been in such deep thought that time eluded her? It seemed everyone went to their rooms, and some preferred the couch. A bed was more ideal however, a good night rest was recommended for the big day that they take back what is rightfully theirs. _For_ _mother Earth!_

A cynical snort escaped at her own dark joke. With such malevolent mourning, a good laugh was necessary. Her current situation was hilariously abysmal—and if you can’t laugh at yourself...

Past this door, turn that corner, up the elevator, five doors down to the left and she was alone with her thoughts for the millionth time in five years. Countless moments alone with the parasite of anxiety feeding on a long dead organism. 

_ Might as well try to sleep _ .

Shedding the blanket like a cape, it floofed to steel ground and the heroine shuffled to gray and navy blue sheets. Sleep had been an unrecognized escape mechanism of hers. Running thoughts can’t catch up if her conscious was awake. It was somewhat healthier than drinking or drugs. Not that she could experience the high anyway. She’d spend days in bed—weeks if no one stepped in to check on her at all. Usually it was Bruce or Thor, and the rare occasional Val, but mostly Bruce. And she genuinely enjoyed their time spent together even with the unspoken ground rules. 

  
  


_ “This is weird.” _

_ “You don’t like it?” _

_ “You look like a Caucasian World of Warcraft orc—and you know exactly what I’m talking about.” _

_ “Ouch.” _

_ “I’m happy for you though, finding comfort within yourself is a good thing. I could learn something from you.”  _

_ “Thanks— it took me long enough! I was just sick of trying to run away from it, you know? Like it was easy or something, or if I ignored it it would go away. I thought I was gonna hate it but honestly? This is the best I’ve ever felt in a long time,” _

_ “Alright, happy is an understatement. I’m proud as hell. You even dress differently. I had no idea they made geriatric shirts in Hulk size.”  _

_ He sniggers and nudges the side of her stomach hard enough to send her tipping over. The clumsiness erupted childish laughter from them both.  _

_ “Now you’re just picking on me!”  _

_ “I’m picking on whoever made that gumpy ass sweater.”  _

_ “Hey, it was this or douchey tank tops.”  _

_ “Touché. Can’t have Hulk looking like he drinks Four Loko with protein powder in Punta Cana for spring break.”  _

_ The big guy stifles a laugh again. Silence falls, and it’s comfortable instead of awkward. It was a frequent occurrence between the two; they could sit in each other’s presence without needing to converse.  _

_ Until it was broken.  _

_ “He misses you, you know.”  _

_ At the first mind, she thought the unnamed man was Thor. But it couldn’t have been, he was just there on the couch yesterday with- _

_ She turned her head away abruptly, wincing. Sour. Bitter, she could taste it on her tongue and down the throat. Burning her esophagus. Then she immediately knows who he’s talking about, and God—she wishes she didn’t.  _

_ “We’re not having this conversation.” _

_ “I wouldn’t be bringing it up if it weren’t true—”  _

_ “If he missed me so much he would’ve came with us to Sakaar.” _

_ “Oh—come on don’t do this, it wasn’t his choice—“ _

_ “Oh but it was, Bruce! And he chose to fight in the schoolyard—sorry—an airport and get sent on the blackest blacklist!” _

_ “...Whether or not he’s sorry for that, I have no idea. We have literally fought beasts bigger than I am on a planet sized Vegas and you’re implying that’s the most baffling thing to you? Why were you so hellbent on him tagging along, anyway?” _

_ Tension wafted over the porch with pungency. Bruce was right. He always was. _

_ “I don’t know...” _

_ It was true, she didn’t know why she got so irrationally upset at his decline. Perhaps it was jealousy that he had the legitimate reason to do so. Perhaps it wasn’t. Yet she argued with it regardless.  _

_ She didn’t know how many years since she saw Steve. But it was well over three. _

_ A colossal hand spanned her back gently.Every nerve jolting back to life after being dormant for so long. The contact made her flinch, but ultimately she eased into it. _

_ “You’ve got to stop running away from this, kid, it only makes it worse.” _

_ In total, seven years without a piercing, calculating blue eye in sight.  _

  
  


About three hours of restlessness, irritability arises. Sleeping on one side helped. Maybe she needed a pillow? Was the room too hot? Too cold? Was the mattress too soft or too hard? Her body starts to tingle, the room suddenly becomes stuffy and the t-shirt was growing unbearably itchy. 

_ You’redyingyou’redyingyou’redyingyou’redyingyou’regoingtodieyou’regoingtodieIcan’tbreatheIcan’tbreatheIcan’tbreatheIcan’tbrea _ -

She catapulted from her horizontal position to the window—an easy twenty feet apart— with a strong gasp. Air. She needed  _ air _ . 

Getting used to your own body all over again is a task full of trials and tribulations. Even harder when all you can remember is fighting a battle that wasn’t yours to fight on Asgard, helping one of the families on the rescue jet, and then waking up with a raccoon staring at your face in a rinky dink ship (on top of that, a dull pain at the base of your skull). Her footsteps were fast thundering down the dim hallway. Aside from the guide lights on the driveway, it was pitch black outside already. Dusk was long gone and it was stone cold silent. One superpowered leap later she was on the helicopter pad. 

The late night air was cool with an even cooler windchill. Oxygen filtered back into her lungs making the tightness in her chest relax. The tingling nerves began to stand still, and she felt normal again. 

_ What the hell are you doing? _

She felt utterly ridiculous. Overwhelmed and ridiculous.She doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to fight. She just wants to be left alone and to sleep and never have any responsibility for another person’s life ever again. She doesn’t want to lose her family a second time. She doesn’t want to  _ die _ . 

Hot, humiliating tears burned her eyes. She seldom had a good cry when other people were bound to walk in at any moment. One droplet fell, alerting her to frantically wipe it away. If anyone were to see her now, they’d know for certain she was crying. Another conversation she didn’t want to have. 

_ The nearest bathroom... _

Upset she didn’t memorize the floor plan, the woman grunted. The only other bathroom she knew of was the one on the same floor as her guest room, or the one on the main floor. Her room was the safest trip to make. 

With tired, idle legs she made her way to the elevator. Buzzing skin met the ice cold metal of the doors once it closed.The bright white light of the inside annoyed her. But the scenery outside was something to behold. Green expanded on until it met with the  inky sky, shadows of tall trees, the small cityscape in the distance lit up. Peculiar; even with half the world gone people still liked to party. 

Whirring.

Whirring.

_Ding_.

She didn’t wait for the doors to open to power walk, instead it turned into a whoosh of purple and in a flash she was staring at the tired, teary eyed reflection.

_ Look at you... _

A few splashes of cold water would do the trick, and the cotton towel to dry away the excess. She was in her own thoughts again, it always occurred when she did the things no one really has to think about doing. 

No one must be up.

“Can’t sleep?”, a wormhole opened in the deepest pit of her soul at the familiar voice. The familiar voice she hadn’t been alone with in seven years. 

_ Goddammit _ .

The towel was still covering her face when she gave a muffled answer.

“I had to pee.”

“Bullshit.” 

She gives him a fierce glare for a good four seconds before balling up the towel to throw it in the sink.

_ Leave before he gets the chance to talk. _

He looked the same since she left. Same eyes, pink lips she wants to punch, his shoulders did take up most of the doorway—more of it than she remembered.

_ Did he get bigger? _

“You’ve been crying.” 

_ Shit _ .

“That’s none of your business.”, she snaps and shoulder checks him on her way out to the dark hallway. She’d always been stronger than usual,faster than usual, but now even more with fragments of the Power Stone’s explosion embedded in her veins. The soldier stumbled sideways.

“When did you get—“

“I’m going to bed.”, code for ‘Leave me alone’ and she’s storming towards her room. 

She knows he’s following, hates that he’s not even trying to hide it. Like he wanted her to know he was waiting to finally catch her. To make sure, she passes her room by a step and whips around to meet the same old analytical gaze. Steve isn’t glowering down, but staring. Watching her. Beefy arms are folded across the swell of his chest. 

_ He’s scolding you. Passive aggressive piece of shit _ . 

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“You’ve been a pain in my left ass cheek.” she fired back. 

“Being mean isn’t going to make me go away.”

“Perhaps if I tell you, then? Leave.” 

He doesn’t move. 

“I said go, Steve. I’m not speaking to you.”

“Why not?” 

She didn’t want to answer that and made it clear by flaring her nostrils.

He opens his mouth to vocalize something, but hesitation kills the sound. 

_ Choose your next words wisely, Steven Grant. _

“You walked in here two days ago and haven’t said a word to me, not directly at least.”

“We aren’t the only people in the building. Now goodnight.” there’s no impolite gesture this time she goes around the muscle mass in front of her to her room and made sure to shut the door clean in his face.

The bed seemed more welcoming the second round of rolling into it. Finally, a comfortable position was discovered and sleep couldn’t have seduced her better. 

Steve lingered outside her door for a few minutes. She’s not coming back. 

Thudding feet began to fade. She could tell he was walking slow. Disappointed.

She wanted to talk to him. And she blew it by being...her. Afraid of confrontation. Afraid of intimacy. She could die tomorrow and her last words to him would weigh heavy on her conscience.

_ Stop running away from this.  _ Bruce tells her.

Her body acted in insubordination to her brain, the knob was in her hand before the steps could turn the corner and the defeated sound of bare feet came to a halt. If it were a cartoon she would've heard a tire screech.

“Hurry up before I change my mind.” she whispered to the ceiling. If the room wasn’t already dark enough, his bulky figure sure did cast a deeper shadow. 

He looks  _ excited _ .

“Hi.”, the greeting is simple, yet pointed. The heat generating off of him wants her closer, to embrace him. 

She’d be lying to say she didn’t want to throw herself at him and squeeze the bones out of his skin. She wants to, her body is screaming for a touch that was seven years overdue. 

Yet she stays still, and responds cordially.

“Hi.” 

“How’ve you been?”, the question is awkward. It's clear he doesn’t know where to start now that he has her full attention, her eyebrow raises—skeptical of his true motive.

_ He didn’t expect to get this far. _

“Good…?”, she responds slowly, unsure of how to answer.

_ Liar _ . He thinks, and doesn’t bother with a poker face. 

Her turn to size him up, and the intensity of the gaze is relentless. She turns to walk towards the bed but doesn’t get under the duvet, sitting with her back against the high headboard. Steve moves in tandem, sitting with his legs extended. 

“I’m not lying.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

She huffs. If both of them were going to be smartasses, the conversation was going nowhere fast. 

“Did I wake you up?” 

“Couldn’t sleep.”  _ I’m too scared to sleep. _

Both heroes stared into the black abyss ahead of them as they spoke softly. Even when he was right there she couldn’t bring herself to say what she wanted. The questions and responses were layered in a deeper meaning, almost as a language only the two of them could understand. 

“Sorry about that.”  _ You’re not the only one. _

He knows what that meant. Awkward silence passes.

“Ready for tomorrow?”  _ Are you scared too? _

“Is anyone?”  _ Yes _ .

There’s no more questions regarding the big fight after that.

“I see you’ve gotten stronger.”

“You could say that. But I’ve always been strong, Steven.” She’s using his full name, he isn’t completely off thin ice yet. 

“How’d it happen?” He whispers. This is a touchy subject for the ones who weren’t born with the abilities they have. The ones whose lives did a one hundred eighty degree turn around from a freak accident. 

“I sure didn’t volunteer to do it.” 

_ Ouch _ . Steve blinks away the obvious stab towards him and inwardly bows in submission.

“Sorry, that was uncalled for—“

“No, I deserve it. You’re mad at me, I get it.”

And she is. Pissed is the better word. Furious is the best. Pride chokes her from apologizing again. 

“I was on a rescue ship after Asgard was destroyed,” 

_ Asgard was destroyed?! _

“One of the people had a serious gash and it looked pretty bad so I decided to help. Next thing I hear is major space turbulence—or so I thought—and I can only remember asking Loki what the hell was going on before I’m knocked out. Then I wake up—Thor’s on a table unconscious, a racoon is talking, and Loki and Bruce are gone.” 

  
  


“ _ She is confused. Lost. She worries for the pirate-angel.” _

  
  


He doesn’t know what to say, and the soldier feels like an absolute buffoon hearing the riveting story. She was off fighting a real fight, doing what he thought he did handling the Accords.

Steve’s mind is racing. Hers too. Would it hurt to be honest sometimes?

_ Just say it. _

**_“I missed you.”_ ** They both murmur at the same time. 

Steve turns his head immediately, his expression is the epitome of a deer in headlights while the other, stone faced and still boring at the opposite wall.Then her knees are drawn up, sinking her deeper into the bed and she can feel him burning holes into her cheek. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” He averts his gaze to his own feet.

“We left each other on bad terms and Lord knows how many years later since I’ve seen you. You know I missed you.”

“Did you really?” Sarcasm.

He knows why she’s being difficult. But he cannot lie. 

“I’m not sorry for staying here, if that's what you want me to say. But I am sorry for making myself look like a complete fool.” 

“Why did you?” 

“If I didn’t, no one would’ve been here to defend against Thanos’ troops. They attacked Wanda and Vision in Scotland and if we weren’t there—“, he didn’t want to finish the rest of the sentence.Nor did he want to imagine what would have happened in his absence. He sighs, weary.

_ We still lost _ . Steve shifts the upper portion of his body to lean against her slouching form. An old way of showing affection between them. She missed him, missed his heat. His face, the longing stares and lingering touches. Sharp tongued one-liners and glassy eyed talks. He always had her six and vice versa. On and off the field. He didn’t belong to her. 

She understood now. She wasn’t angry anymore, just hurt.

_ We lost. _

“Where have you  _ been _ ?”, Steve fails to mask the desperation in his voice. 

  
  
  


_ Sakaar.Asgard.Nidavellir.Wakanda.  _

_ The snap. _

_ “What did you do?!” _

_ She can hear Thor’s roaring. She felt the air shift.  _

_ Something is wrong. _

_ She turns to one of the Wakandan soldiers and offers a hand—only to have...dust? _

_ Oh no.  _

_ No. _

_ Something is wrong. _

_ No! _

_ “Thor!” _

_ He had to have won. Fate stripped him of everything he ever was and ever had. He couldn’t have lost, that’s not how things worked. The minute they touched down in the crackling purple and blue lightning, they were out for blood.  _

  
  
  


Breathing heavily, she sits up off the pillows and inevitably Steve’s body returns to its initial place.

“I tried to help someone—“, fighting the lump in her throat, she paused and gripped the fabric of her shorts.

  
  


_ Thanos is gone and there’s absolutely nothing to do next. The silence, the stillness, is horrifying. She’s still on the battlefield with the remaining warriors when the rugged face of Asgard appears. Features are clouded tight with an emotion inconceivable to man.He’s walking to her slowly, very slowly. Stalking. Stormbreaker hangs in a fat and calloused hand loosely. As if he couldn’t fathom the tremendous discount of today. They’re standing a foot apart when the godly weapon hits the ground first. Then his knees. Thor gently rests a dirty bearded cheek to a thigh. Her heart feels weighted, and grows massive when the spot becomes wet. _

_ She’s frozen in her stance. _

_ Thor wails mournfully into her lap. _

  
  
  


“I knew we lost. Before I saw anyone else, before I saw  _ you _ , I had to see if my family was okay first—“, a choked sob broke through. The dam was crumbling at an alarming rate but she had to keep it together. But how could she? The extremely sensitive subject was hardly discussed or even confronted.

_ Don’tcryinfrontofhimdon’tcryinfrontofhimdon’tcryinfrontofhimdon’tcryinfrontofhim— _

“The stove was burning when I got there so I looked for them...but I couldn’t find them. I couldn’t  _ find _ them Steve! I looked  _ everywhere _ ...!” It’s a lip quivering, heavy chested, breathtaking cry that cripples her next. His natural instinct is to console her, pulling the weeping woman closer to him in between long legs. 

He would say an ‘it’s okay, you’re safe now’ or a ‘you did your best but you can’t save everyone’ but this time, everyone lost everything. One of those times where saying the right thing is hard to find. Steve’s heart hurts for her but most of all hurts for  _ himself _ .

“I lost Buck...again.”, his voice is broken. 

He’s trying not to cry too.

“Jesus, Steve, what are we doing? What if we fail? What if I  _ die _ —?!”

“You won’t.” Steve cuts in with a commanding tone. “No one is losing. You’ll see your family again, mark my words. This...loss is the reason why we do it. And it's the reason we’re going to win. And we’re not accepting defeat— come hell or high water.”

“He’s going to come for me first.”

“Don’t let him get close enough to hurt you. Even if you have to come like a bat out of hell and I’ve seen you fight,you’ve came closer to him than any of us....”,he trails off, searching for the next batch of wisely selected words.

“And you’re not going to be alone. I promise.”

He starts gliding the palm of his hand in between shoulder-blades and down and up and again. He’s caressing her, and she doesn’t realize how touch starved they both are. Tears stopped flowing generously and now down to sniffles and sighs.She rolls her face into the center of his chest and stills, inhaling deeply.

_ He smells so good.  _

_ He’s so warm... _

_ He’s so...big. _

_ I missed you so much, Steve. _

In that moment she realizes how deprived of physical affection they are. Hard muscle under soft, milky skin radiating a heat that encased a hungry body. An arm slithers across his flat abdomen and around. 

She’s holding him. 

Her chin points up so she could look at him, and Steve’s already staring down at her with longing eyes. They mirror her own. In a blink, she glances to his lips and up again.

She’s asking for permission.

_ They look so soft... _

_ Please let me kiss you... _

Nothing can be heard except for breathing. Either of the heroes wait for the other to lean in, something is stopping them. A barrier slowly deteriorating the longer the gaze lingers.

“We can’t do this...”, he wants the excuse to be true and genuine. Yet he closes the baby blue jewels and anticipates the alarms of morale to ring. And by the time She speaks again, their lips are less than an inch away. 

“We have nothing left to lose.” Is her final, deal-breaking response. It hurts him that it took losing everything and everyone for you to speak to him. It hurts him that she's _right._

It’s soft and plushy, the way their mouths touch and rock against each other. It’s a chain reaction to the sensual act. One peck turning to a wave motion that mimicked the sea.

She snatches from him like velcro, both of them are breathlessly in a trance. The shared eye contact is nothing short of lustful and She finds her knees on either side of his tapering body. The second one is more sloppy, more needy and gluttonous hands are feeling all over. Handfuls of hair and flesh. 

Greediness takes over, clothed contact is a disgrace at this point. He wants to feel more of her. The great lack of light in the room was no issue at all, desperate souls could care less about it.They just wanted to feel.

Steve’s shirt was the first to go. A hot mouth lazily kissed and bit on his strong neck. He huffs, and his leg twitches under her. More hands are grabbing and massaging, hers are sliding down his bulky chest. He returns the favor by caressing up the back of the heroine and ripping apart the bra clasp. 

Her skin tingles as he lets his mouth roam from the jugular, to the collarbone, sternum, under her breast and follows the same path in reverse. Steve cups one roughly and curls his tongue around the tender nipple, then sucks generously. 

He doesn’t need to see her reaction. He can feel her hips jolt on his cock.  Her nails are scraping lightly on Steve’s scalp as he savors her with his eyes closed. Small sounds are trickling out of her throat.  Thick fingers hook into the abundant fat of her ass and squeeze. He’s dragging them everywhere, dimpling her skin at the contact. 

  
  


“It’s been so long since I’ve been touched like this...”, She whimpers to the man leaving faint kisses to her neck.

“I know, baby, I know...”, he sings back before turning Her on her stomach, and uses his hand to brush away the waist length hair that was so rudely in the way of the naked skin of her spine. He took his time kissing the road from the base of the vertebrae to the nape of her neck—like he’d been wanting to show her just how much their absence strengthened desire.

His hands find themselves traveling the hypersensitive skin of her thighs. 

_ It’s okay.  _ Kiss.

_ I’ve got you.  _ Kiss.

_ I’m sorry. _

“Please...”, a tiny gasp from Her as Steve plants each kiss up the back of her thighs now, closer and closer. She presents her butt to him by raising her hips from the mattress to his face. He immediately knows what she wants. 

And both panties and cotton shorts were coming off as one, and Steve is anticipating the moment he gets to shove and thrash his tongue inside of her. 

He starts off with firm swirls around her cunt, humming with satisfaction, striking a bountiful ass cheek. 

The way he worships her, so gentle yet so rapturous and greedy. She’s mewling with cotton blend sheets bullied between teeth and it’s making her mouth dry.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
